


A Woman Like Me

by Milliadoc_Brandybuck



Series: Peaky Blinders [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gangsters, Historical Accuracy, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Miscarriage, Peaky Blinders - Freeform, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Period-Typical Underage, Pre-Canon, Race, Romani Character, Shelby family - Freeform, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliadoc_Brandybuck/pseuds/Milliadoc_Brandybuck
Summary: Everybody knows the Shelby family would not be where they are without the women in their lives. This is an OF of two women who do their part to support the cause, whilst fighting for their place in the world they know.
Series: Peaky Blinders [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072073
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Sins of the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1902, and a baby is born out of scandal.

**_1902, Balsall Heath, Birmingham_ **

“One more push,” The midwife urged, “You can do it, Henrietta, just one more.” She was deliberately keeping her voice low in an attempt to keep the scandal from the door, but the screams coming from the nineteen year old on the bed before her were enough to alert the whole estate. 

“I can’t do it!” Henrietta whimpered, “I’m not strong enough.”

“You listen to me,” The midwife said with a tight grip on the young woman’s knees, “You listen good and proper. You can do this, and you will. You are strong, you have to be for your baby.”

“I’m scared…” Henrietta sobbed. “What if it looks like him…”

The midwife frowned a little as she tried to think of the best way to assure Henrietta. “Then we’ll handle it.” 

The truth surrounding the pregnancy of the only daughter of the Right Honourable Augustus Webb had been dicey to say the least. Only Henrietta knew the truth, and some of it she had shared with the midwife in a fit of devastation when she wanted to abort the pregnancy. She had been talked out of it, thankfully, but now she was regretting not going through with it. 

Henrietta was a young slip of a thing with auburn hair and bright green eyes. She had fair skin and looked as though she had been kissed by the Fae. She had been sixteen when she had first met the love of her life, and seventeen when she had first given herself to him. He had been a sailor once, but an injury had left him with few prospects. He was now a gardener on her father’s estate and she had fallen for his dark, mysterious demeanour and his thick, tropical voice. She had been eighteen when she had found out she was carrying his child. 

She loved D’Anthony Powell, but she knew how terrible it was that she had let him in like she had. Now she was giving birth to their child, and her father had kept her locked in her room for the last seven months like an invalid or a crazy person. He, the best judge in this area of Birmingham, could not risk his reputation being tarnished by the arrival of his daughter’s illegitimate child… especially when it would be half-Bahamian. He had banned D’Anthony from setting foot near the house, from seeing Henrietta, and most importantly had not informed him that she was pregnant. As far as he was concerned she was simply not interested in him. Henrietta had prayed every night for the last seven months that the baby would not take after its father, for its own sake. 

“One more push, Henrietta, come on.” The midwife begged. Henrietta gritted her teeth and said one final prayer before pushing her daughter into the world. “That’s it,” The midwife patted her knee as she swaddled the baby, it’s cries filling the room, “Well done.”

“What is it?” Henrietta asked as she threw her head back into the pillows and closed her eyes, panting. 

“A girl.” The midwife replied, rocking it gently. 

“No… I mean…” Henrietta faltered. 

“See for yourself.” The midwife said, handing the baby to Henrietta. Henrietta hesitated as she felt the baby against her breast, then, with a pained expression, she opened one eye. 

Henrietta breathed a sigh of relief as she looked down at the ashy skin of her baby daughter. She favoured her mother, and for that Henrietta was grateful. She loved D’Anthony, but she would not wish his life upon her daughter. As the midwife cleaned up, for a moment Henrietta lost herself in the baby’s dark brown eyes, the only remnant of her father. 

There was a quick impatient rap on the door. 

“Is it done?” Came the authoritative voice of the Right Honourable Augustus Webb. 

The midwife cleaned up the bloodied rags as quickly as she could and headed to the door. The judge did not like to be kept waiting. 

“It’s a girl, my lord.” The midwife said as she opened the door. “I’m not sure Henrietta is ready for visitors…”

“Nonsense, I need to see the mongrel...” Augustus pushed past her and approached the bed where Henrietta lay with her baby. He raised his thick eyebrows in surprise as his eyes fell on the infant. “Huh.” Was all he managed. 

Henrietta waited with baited breath as Augustus surveyed the infant with his heavy eyes. Henrietta knew her father was deciding whether to keep the bastard or drop it at the nearest foundling hospital. The wait was murder. 

“Ivory.” He spoke eventually. 

“Father?” Henrietta frowned at him. 

“Ivory.” He repeated. “We will call her Ivory. She will be raised in this house as a ward and a foundling. Nobody will know you gave her birth.” He cleared his throat and shifted his moustache-clad lip with a heavy expression. 

“Ivory?” Henrietta questioned. Was he serious? “But father…”

“I will hear no buts. This is how it will be, or she will be dropped at St Magdalenes and that will be that.” Augustus turned on his heel again and left the room. “See her cleaned up.” He ordered in passing. 

Henrietta waited for the door to close again before breaking down in tears. Her whole life had been controlled, and it seemed her daughter would suffer the same fate. 

If only she knew exactly what the future had in store for Ivory Webb. 


	2. One of the Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie is the eldest daughter and third child of the Shelby family and, now she is eighteen, she is planning on becoming very involved in the affairs of the family business.

_**1910, Small Heath, Birmingham** _

“As if our Maggie is eighteen!” Arthur declared with a flourish of the expensive whisky bottle in his hand. 

“I still don’t believe it.” Pol shook her head with a smile in Margaret’s direction where she sat at the head of the table. “I still remember you running around the house in my dress pretending to be a grown up lady, and now you are.” 

“You’d better believe it, Aunt Pol.” Maggie replied as she took the bottle from her eldest brother and swigged it. “But I’m pretty fucking far from a lady.” 

There was cheering from her brothers as Pol rolled her eyes and succumbed to her family’s celebrations.

Margaret Shelby was the eldest daughter and third born child of the Shelby family. She had the characteristic dark hair and bright eyes, but unlike her only sister Ada, Maggie was the entire opposite of a lady. She had grown up close with her brothers and as much as they tried to keep her out of their business, the more she dug her claws in. Now she was every bit as involved with the Peaky Blinders as her brothers. She was invaluable to them and so they overlooked her gender. 

It didn’t stop Arthur and Tommy trying to marry her off at every opportunity, but Maggie had made it very clear that she would marry when she was good and ready. She was not a bargaining chip, she was not a prize to be presented, she was a woman and she would choose her own companion. 

“Alright, alright, alright.” Maggie held up her hands to silence the cheers and jeers from her brothers and sister. They fell silent and looked to her as she climbed up on the chair at the head of the table. “I just want to say thank you to this family for giving me not only a reason to live, but a reason to fight… mostly because I’m constantly fighting for my place in this family.” She laughed as they cheered and raised the bottle. “To the Shelby clan!” 

“The Shelby clan!” There was a chorus and Maggie sat down again, tipsy. 

It was at that point that there was a secret knock on the door and Arthur rose drunkenly from his chair to stagger and answer it. Maggie craned her neck to eavesdrop as Arthur stuck his head out. There was a moment and then Arthur shut the door and, predictably, headed to Tommy to whisper in his ear. Both of them were suddenly sober as the Pope.

“Trouble’s afoot.” John said to Maggie with a nudge to her ribs. 

“It better not be on my birthday.” Maggie folded her arms and waited for Tommy and Arthur to be done. 

Two minutes later and they both got to their feet. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Polly said angrily. “On your sister’s birthday?”

“An old friend needs a favour.” Tommy explained, stubbing out his cigarette. 

“Which old friend?” Pol asked suspiciously.

“We have friends?” Ada asked with a small laugh. 

“Which friend?” Maggie got to her feet. 

“You remember D’Anthony Powell?” Arthur asked as he and Tommy pulled on their coats. 

“The gardener?” Polly asked sceptically.

“The sailor.” Tommy replied curtly. “He’s an old family friend and he’s in trouble. We’re heading up to Balsall.”

“Balsall?” Polly asked, “This has nothing to do with the Right Honourable Augustus Webb, does it?” Webb had been a thorn in their side for some time now, and rumour had it his own daughter had been the victim of a crime before her untimely death. 

“The very same.” Arthur replied as he and Tommy pulled on their caps. 

“We don’t want you involved, Pol.” Tommy said. “You hear me? We owe D’Anthony a debt, and we’re cashing it in.” 

“We don’t need you messing it up.” Arthur warned as he and Tommy headed for the door. 

“Wait,” Maggie called. 

“Right.” Tommy said, turning to her and kissing her cheek. “Sorry we’re skipping out.” 

“Are you kidding?” Maggie asked. “I’m coming with you.” 

“What?” He asked. “No.” 

“Tommy,” Maggie shook her head, “You should know by now your word means little to me.” She pulled on her coat, “Thanks for the party, Aunt Pol, now the boys and I are heading for the afterdo.” 

Arthur chuckled as he, Tommy and Maggie headed for the door. 


	3. Right Honourable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie, Tommy and Arthur follow up leads in the D'Anthony Powell case. Maggie learns what it feels like to be involved in Peaky Blinder business.
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: Contains reference to sexual and child abuse.

**_1910, Balsall Heath, Birmingham_ **

The home of the Right Honourable Augustus Webb was far fancier than Margaret had seen in a long while. Growing up where she had she had known hardship. It seemed anyone who grew up in this house would know nothing of such an upbringing. 

“What are we doing here, Tommy?” Maggie asked as they climbed down from the cart. 

“This?” Tommy asked as he tied up the horse, “This is the home of the Right Honourable Pain-in-our-Arse.” 

“What does this have to do with D’Anthony Powell?” Maggie shrugged off Arthur’s helping hand and hopped down herself. 

“A long story.” Arthur said by way of explanation. “D’Anthony reached out to us to commute his hanging sentence. He’s been accused of a crime he didn’t commit.” 

“What crime?” Maggie asked as Tommy pulled their hats out of the front seat of the cart.

“The rape of the judge’s daughter, Henrietta Webb.” Arthur pulled on his hat. 

“How do we know he’s innocent?” Maggie scowled. “You’re just taking his word for it?” 

“I’m not sure you’ll remember D’Anthony, Mags,” Arthur said, “But we do. He was always a kind man, would never lift a finger even in war and would sing to the bees in his garden to help them pollinate. I find it hard to believe him capable of such an act.”

“That,” Tommy added, “And the fact this supposed rape was seven years ago.”

“What?” Maggie frowned further as they started walking up the front path. “Then why now?”

“Exactly.” Tommy stuck his hands in his pockets in an attempt to look non-threatening. “Suspicious, isn’t it?”

Maggie nodded, awed by the fact they simply seemed to  _ know  _ these things.

“That and the fact the supposed rape led to the birth of a daughter whom D’Anthony only recently learned existed when the girls mother, Henrietta Web, passed away. If you ask me the Right Honourable Judge Righteous made up the whole thing when D’Anthony found out and tried to get custody.” Arthur shrugged angrily. “The kid has been raised by her grandfather in this big old house…”

“Wow.” Maggie shook her head sarcastically. “Poor kid.” 

“Yes, poor kid.” Tommy replied curtly as they reached the front steps. “Augustus Webb is bad news. That poor kid has probably known nothing by racism and been kept locked away.” 

“Racism?” Maggie asked.

“Aye.” Arthur rang the bell and it clanged down the hall on the other side. “D’Anthony Powell is Bahamian.” 

“Oh.” Maggie frowned. She hadn’t realised. 

“So of course,” Tommy said as a final remark, “The jury were all too happy to believe the judge’s claim and pass the sentence of hanging for a rape D’Anthony didn’t commit.” 

The door opened and a man in a frock coat stood on the other side. He took in the three of them on the doorstep with a surprised expression. 

“It’s very late sirs, madam. The master is…”

“The master will see us.” Arthur said curtly. “Tell him it’s Arthur Shelby, won’t you?”

Maggie and Tommy frowned at him, noticing that he left off the ‘Jr’ part of his name. 

The footman bowed his head and shuffled away down the hall and sideways into the study. Arthur, Tommy and Maggie stepped inside the front door and shut it behind themselves as an act of contrition whilst they waited. There was a pause as somewhere a Grandmother clock chimed midnight, and then there was an outraged cry from the study and the footman appeared once more, looking flustered. 

“The master will see you now.” He said with a bow of his head. 

Arthur and Tommy exchanged triumphant glances and set off down the hall, Maggie close behind. She was momentarily lost in the grandeur of the place. She had never seen anything like it, each alcove like an art gallery, the ceiling painted. 

The study was a much smaller room than the foyer but nonetheless grand. There were bookshelves lining the walls and, standing behind a large oak desk was a foreboding man with white wisps of hair and a gold tooth. 

He frowned at them as they approached and removed their caps in respect. 

“I’m sorry,” The man said with a snide curl of his lip, “I was expecting Arthur Shelby.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” Arthur extended his hand. “Did your footman leave off the suffix? Jr?” 

The judge scowled as he shook Arthur’s hand on principle. 

“This is my brother Thomas and my sister Margaret.” Arthur added as an afterthought, always the gentleman.

“It’s very late for you to be barging into my home.” The judge said, “I was about to…”

“We won’t be here long.” Tommy said smoothly as he sat himself in a chair opposite Augustus. Arthur sat beside him and Maggie sank into a chair by the fire. “We just have one matter to discuss.”

“Where is your father?” Augustus sank slowly into his chair. 

“Fuck knows.” Arthur replied with a sour shrug. Tommy shot him a look. “Sorry.” Arthur added, not meaning it. 

“We’re here to talk to you about D’Anthony Powell.” Tommy said, bringing the conversation to the reason at hand. “He’s to hang in the morning.”

“Can’t come soon enough if you ask me, for what he did to my daughter.” Augustus avoided his gaze.

“That’s just the thing.” Tommy looked to Arthur and then back to Augustus. “He didn’t, did he?”

“I beg your pardon.” Augustus turned to him indignantly. “Of course he did, are you questioning my honour, sir?”

“No, not your honour.” Tommy shrugged. “Your truthfulness.” 

“Are you calling me a liar?” Augustus was growing angered. 

“We are simply here to politely ask you to release D’Anthony.” Arthur lit a cigarette and offered one to the judge who didn’t even react. Arthur withdrew his hand and gave one to Tommy instead. 

“Why would I do that to the man who raped my only daughter, my Henrietta, and would do the same to my granddaughter?” Augustus growled. 

Maggie, sitting by the fire, looked to the painting above the fireplace. The image was of the Right Honourable Augustus, a woman she assumed to be his daughter, and a young girl on his knee. The way he was holding the child… there was something about it. 

“How long does it take to become a Justice of the Peace, Lord Webb?” Maggie asked from her chair. She wasn’t dumb. She knew where Arthur and Tommy were going with this. 

“I beg your pardon?” Augustus repeated, turning to her. 

“How long does it take…” Maggie began to repeat herself but Augustus interrupted. 

“It has been my life’s work.” He replied curtly. 

“And in all that time…” She got to her feet and walked to stand between the chairs of her two brothers, her hands on the backs. “How many rapists have you locked away?”

“Countless.” Augustus replied. 

“And yet,” Maggie glanced to Arthur for confirmation, “In all that time you didn’t see to lock yourself away?”

“I beg your pardon…?” Augustus asked for a third time. Tommy and Arthur smirked at their sister’s wit. 

Maggie gestured at the portrait. “How many years have you been doing that exact thing to members of your own family, sir?” 

Augustus opened and closed his mouth like a gasping fish but nothing came out. 

“I thought so.” Maggie said triumphantly. 

“Like we said,” Tommy dragged from his cigarette and took his time in finding the words, “You will allow D’Anthony a pardon, release him tonight, or your dirty little secret will become known.”

“You’ll be replacing him in that cell.” Arthur added with a smirk. 

“You have no proof…?” Augustus started.

“I’m sure we could find it.” Maggie said dangerously. She had definitely inherited the family wiles. “You knew our father, sir, and you know what he was capable of. Don’t test the theory when multiplied by three.” She winked at him patronisingly. 

“Oh,” Tommy added as he pushed a piece of paper towards Augustus and Arthur handed him a pen. Augustus started writing the pardon with a heavy head. He waited for a few moments whilst he wrote the words. “And we’ll be taking D’Anthony’s daughter with us.” He concluded his words as Augustus signed the pardon with a flourish. 

“No.” Augustus looked up. “She belongs with her family.” 

“She will be.” Arthur took the pardon from the judge and got to his feet. “Where will we find her bedroom?”

“You can’t…” Augustus was on his feet but Tommy had already drawn his gun, gesturing for him to sit back down again. 

“You will no longer be able to touch D’Anthony, nor his daughter.” Tommy replied. “By order of the Peaky Blinders.” He pressed the barrel to the judge’s head. “Where is she?”

Augustus looked between them one-by-one until he sighed, realising the worst thing he could do was fight it. He was an old man now. 

“Second floor. On the left.” Augustus said, defeated.

“Mags.” Arthur said by way of an order. 

Maggie nodded and headed for the door whilst Arthur and Tommy kept the judge in his place. She had reached the stairs by the time the footman realised. 

“Can I help you, miss?” He called as she took the stairs. 

“You can find employment elsewhere,” She said, “I doubt the Judge will be employing you much longer.” Maggie continued up the stairs to the second floor and turned to her left. 

She took a deep breath as she opened the door, the light from the hall streaming into the little girls’ bedroom. 

“Grandpapa?” Came a fearful voice from the bed. 

Maggie felt her heart pound as she stepped inside and lit the lamp. “No, sweetie.” She said with the kindest smile she could muster. The little girl in the bed had long black hair and had skin that could have passed for Caucasian if Maggie hadn’t known differently. Only her eyes showed her true heritage, dark and big as they were. “My name is Maggie. I’m going to take you to your dad. You’re safe now, your grandpapa can’t hurt you anymore.”

Maggie held out her hand to the girl. 

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then the seven-year-old took Maggie’s hand and let her lead her from the bed and out into the hall, away from her old life and on to her new. Maggie had no idea what the girl had been through when she was so willing to leave with a stranger if it meant getting away, but she knew it could only be for the best. With her, Maggie felt herself embrace her new life. She had always been a Shelby, but now it seemed she was a Peaky Blinder too. It was exhilarating to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, Right Honourable Judge Augustus Webb is designed to be portrayed by Charles Dance, as he appears in 'And Then There Were None'


	4. Innocent Until Proven Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie, Tommy and Arthur help Ivory be reunited with her father.

**_1910, Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

Despite her upbringing the young girl, Ivory Webb, was in good health and spirits. After taking her from her home and saving her from her prison, Maggie and Tommy had taken the girl back to their property whilst Arthur carried on to the prison to free and collect D’Anthony Powell, a debt fulfilled.

“Would you like anything else to drink, sweetheart?” Pol asked. She was in her element with the bright-eyed little girl sitting at her table drinking milk and eating tea-cake at one in the morning. Maggie had not left her side, under instruction to guard her. Tommy was at the window keeping a lookout. 

“No thank you ma’am.” Ivory replied in a small voice as Pol gently brushed crumbs from her mouth. 

“Such a bright young thing.” Pol said admiringly. Maggie watched her carefully, knowing how this would be hard for Pol. It had been two years since her own children had been taken. Her son, Michael, would have been the same age as Ivory. 

“Where is my dad?” Ivory asked as she looked to Maggie. It was the fourth time she had asked in the space of an hour. 

“He’ll be here soon, Ivory.” Tommy said from the window. Ivory nodded, unphased entirely at being surrounded by strangers. She took another bit of tea-cake and returned the smile Pol offered her. 

“Such a bright young thing.” Pol repeated with a gently hand on Ivory’s cheek.

“You can’t keep her, Pol.” Tommy said. 

“I know.” Pol said sourly, removing her hand. “But I can dream.”

There were a few moments of silence as Pol sulkily pulled her housecoat about herself and Maggie picked at her own slice of cake. Just because they had gotten the pardon didn’t mean the prison would release D’Anthony to Arthur. It was all a waiting game and they were having to stay positive for their guest. Ivory seemed nonplussed by the waiting game. 

“Do you know anything about your dad, Ivory?” Pol asked as a way to break the painful silence. 

Ivory shook her head, her black curls bursting over her shoulder. Pol stroked them softly, longing to plait them and be a mother to this motherless child. 

“Do you know much about him, Pol?” Maggie asked. 

“I remember bits.” Pol replied, “From when he used to hang around your father.” Pol lit a cigarette and drew from it. “He was always handsome, always singing.” She smiled at Ivory. “He’s a good man.” 

Ivory nodded. “Mother always used to say so.” 

Pol and Maggie frowned at her. 

“Your mother spoke of him?” Pol asked. 

Ivory’s eyes widened like she had spoken too much. “Only when Grandfather wasn’t around. She said it was a secret.” Ivory frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.” Pol patted her small hand. “Your mother loved your father very much.”

“So he’s not a bad man, like Grandpapa said?” Ivory’s eyes were wide as she appealed to Pol. 

“No,” Pol shook her head and smiled kindly, “He is not a bad man.”

“They’re here.” Tommy said, moving from the window to the door in three strides. Pol got to her feet, Maggie too, as they waited. Ivory slid from her chair and took Maggie’s hand for comfort. Maggie looked down at her and smiled reassuringly. 

“It’ll be okay.” She said. “You’re safe now.” She nudged the girls shoulder reassuringly. 

The front door opened in the hall and Tommy spoke with Arthur and a man with a deep voice. 

“I am eternally grateful to you Shelby’s.” D’Anthony said, his voice thick with his Bahamian roots. “I can never repay such a debt.”

“You can start by caring for your daughter.” Tommy replied. Maggie squeezed Ivory’s hand tightly. 

“My daughter?” D’Anthony replied breathlessly. 

“She’s here, D’Anthony.” Pol said from the doorway where she stood. Maggie heard footsteps and then D’Anthony came into view. 

“Where is she?” He asked, accepting Pol’s embrace and almost out of breath with excitement. 

“We spirited her away.” Arthur explained as the door shut. “You’re both in the care of the Peaky Blinders now.” 

Maggie watched as D’Anthony looked to them incredulously. He was a thick-set man with a kind face and big eyes, just like Ivory’s. He was sporting a prison beard of his black hair, and his head was balding on top. He looked like he had hardly slept but still his eyes shone. D’Anthony’s gaze turned into the room and fell on Maggie, then on the girl by her side. 

“D’Anthony,” Pol said with a squeeze to his arm, “This is your daughter, Ivory.”

D’Anthony let out a sob of relief and dropped to his knees so that he was at Ivory’s height. He held out his arms tentatively to her as they all watched. 

“Ivory?” He said. “I’m your father.”

Ivory scanned his face uncertainly. She looked up to Maggie for reassurance. Maggie nodded with a smile, and Ivory’s worried face broke into a smile as she hurried into his arms. D’Anthony held her close and sobbed into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around her father. 

“My girl.” He said thickly. “My girl. I’m never letting you go.” 

“I’ve been looking for you.” Ivory replied as she held him close. 

Pol, Arthur, Tommy and Maggie watched the scene with warmth in their hearts. Their area of work was often riddled with crime, vengeance, slaughter and grief, but every once in a while they managed to achieve something that resembled hope and goodness. Maggie couldn’t help but smile at the reality that was her life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, D'Anthony Powell is designed to be played by Idris Elba as he appears in 'American Gangster'


	5. Doctor's Orders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie goes to the Doctor for a check-up and is prescribed something she never expected.

**_1911, Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

Being a Peaky Blinder was many things: and one of them was one big, prolonged headache. As a matter of fact Maggie could not remember a time when she hadn’t had a headache, and that was precisely the reason she was going to the physician’s office on her ‘day off’. 

She loved what she did. She loved her job, crime and everything, and she loved spending all the time with her brothers. She even loved spending time with little Ivory, who at eight years old was quickly becoming a Shelby in her own right. 

After Ivory and her father had been liberated the Peaky Blinders had set them up in a house on Watery Lane and D’Anthony found work at the canals helping the trade of goods overseen by their organisation. Ivory was entrusted to Maggie much of the time in an attempt to get her to learn. She was a bright kid and had a bright future ahead of her now that she had the freedom to explore it. 

Maggie wrung her hands together as she sat in the waiting room of the physician's office. She hated the doctors. Something about them always set her on edge. She was surrounded by men coughing into handkerchiefs and women riddled with venereal disease. She hated the doctors. 

“Margaret Shelby?” 

Maggie looked up to where the panelled wooden door had opened and a handsome man in a simple shirt and waistcoat stepped out. He had bright grey eyes and a chiselled face that caught Maggie’s breath in her chest. She cleared her throat and got to her feet. 

“Is that Shelby like Arthur?” The doctor said as she approached. She had not seen him before. He held out his hand to shake hers. 

“The very same. He’s my brother.” Maggie shook his hand, her fingertips tingling. “Maggie.” 

“Ah, I see the family resemblance.” He said with a bright smile. “The nose. Doctor Jennings.” He said with a smile and gestured for her to step into the office. 

“Would you prefer the door open or closed?” He asked as she followed his guidance. Her stomach erupted in butterflies as she stepped past him. 

“Closed is fine.” She said with a small smile as she took the offered chair. 

“Perfect.” Dr Jennings said, closing the door and taking his seat behind the desk. “What can I help you with?”

~*~

Twenty minutes later and Jennings finished his examination and sat behind his desk again. Maggie’s stomach was still in knots. 

“Well, the good news Miss Shelby…” Jennings said. 

“Maggie.” Maggie said automatically. She hated formality. 

“Maggie.” Jennings smiled in response, “The good news is you are not showing symptoms of venereal disease.”

“That’s good.” Maggie said with a sigh of relief. He was handsome and the last thing she wanted to talk to him more about was her sex life. She had been with more men than she cared to admit. She was, after all, a Shelby. “Then what is it? The headaches?”

“From the looks of things,” Jennings said with a small knitted frown as he checked his notes, “I think it’s simply stress. You said you help with the family business?”

“I’ll stop you right there Doctor.” Maggie held up a dismissive hand. “If you’re about to tell me I should not be involved and should stay at home like a good woman I’ll tell you where to stick it.”

She was deadly serious but Dr Jennings chuckled, his eyes shining. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He replied with a wide smile. 

Maggie met his eye for a moment, her own brightening.

“Taking care of yourself is a priority, though,  _ Maggie _ .” He said her name reverently. “I’m sure your brothers could cope one day without you.”

“Think again, doctor.” Maggie replied with a smirk. 

“If we’re on a first name basis, you may as well call me Edward.” Jennings chuckled. 

“Edward.” Maggie smiled in spite of herself. 

Edward returned her smile. “Perhaps you should get away for some rest?” 

“Chance would be a fine thing.” Maggie scoffed. He continued to smile at her, his bright eyes burning into hers. 

“Maybe you need to find a reason.” He said. “Doctors orders.”

Maggie frowned at him, entirely understanding his meaning. She smiled and found herself blushing uncontrollably. No man had ever made her feel like this. 

She wasn’t sure how she felt about it… but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For appearance, Edward Jennings is designed to be played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson, as he appears in 'Nowhere Boy'


	6. Adventure of a Lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie marries Edward and they are presented with a honeymoon by her brothers that promises to be the adventure of a lifetime.

**_1912, Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

“Who ever thought our Maggie would be the first to tie the fucking knot!” Arthur cheered as Tommy rolled his eyes to adjust his eldest brother’s tie. 

“Best not show up looking like we dragged you in off the street.” Tommy scolded, “Fix your damn tie you scruff.” 

Arthur swigged from the whisky bottle and scoffed. 

“I want everything to go perfect today, boys. No trouble, you hear me?” Pol warned as she bustled from one side of the foyer to the other, her arms full of flowers. “It’s not everyday your sister gets married.” 

“She’s picked a good guy, too.” John added from where he leaned against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers. 

“Aye,” Arthur said, “A doctor, who knew.” 

“Never again will we have to wait to get seen when we get shot.” John laughed muckily. Tommy nudged him, both of them laughing. 

“One of us had to go straight.” Tommy shrugged and fixed his cap in place. 

Arthur scoffed again. “Like she’ll stay that way.”

“She can dream for a day.” Pol rolled her eyes. 

“Are you ready?” Maggie called from the top of the stairs. Pol shushed the boys and they stood at the foot of the stairs, waiting in formation for her to appear. 

Maggie was a vision of loveliness in the ivory lace of her mother's old dress, adapted as it had been. Her dark Romany hair framed her face and Ada had done a perfectly simple job of her make-up and adding a flower to her hair. The sight of her drove breath from her brother's lungs in awe. 

Maggie reached the bottom of the stairs, Ada holding her train, and for a moment they all stood in silence looking at her.

“Well?” She asked. “Will I do?”

“You look beautiful.” Arthur was genuinely speechless as he kissed her cheek. 

“Arthur,” Maggie laughed, “Are you tearing up?”

“I, er, it’s the flowers. They’ve got in my eyes.” Arthur wiped his eye angrily and smiled at her. “Perfection.” 

“I agree.” Tommy said, taking his turn to kiss her cheek. 

“Don’t forget this.” Ada said, holding up the veil and putting it in place on Maggie’s head. 

“Your mother would be so proud.” Pol shook her head incredulously and adjusted the veil for Maggie. 

“I hope so.” Maggie smiled. 

“You look just like her.” John added, pushing himself off the wall. Maggie smiled at him in thanks as Arthur held out his arm. 

“Shall we?” He asked proudly. 

“Why not?” Maggie grinned and let Arthur lead her down the hall and out of the front door, the procession following, Pol taking Finn’s hand firmly. 

Ada lifted Maggie’s skirts so the ivory coloured lace wouldn’t find the dirt of Watery Lane as they made for the family car. The March sun shone down on them as they piled into the motorcar and set off for the church. 

~*~

Teddy was a handsome vision in his tailcoat and hat as he stood at the altar beside Jeremiah, Tommy and Jon. The pride in his eyes was obvious even from the end of the aisle as Arthur led Maggie towards him. The aisle was littered with white petals from Ivory’s journey up it before Maggie entered the church. She now stood beside Ada as they watched Maggie progress. The congregation was on its feet but Maggie only had eyes for Teddy. 

Their courtship had been brief but intense. After their first meeting six months ago they had gone from strength to strength. They had taken a boat ride together and she had learned that his father had been a soldier of the Boer war and had passed away during active duty. His sister and mother had moved to the Colonies in an attempt to handle the grief and for a brief time Teddy had lived there with them, working as he had as a doctor until he had returned to his home country. He cared for his patients with all of his being and often they came first. Maggie liked that about him. He was a kind soul and it was a refreshing twist from the usual men in Maggie’s life, yet he still managed to get on with her brothers as if he had always been in the family. Betrothal had been inevitable and they had plans to travel once they were wed. 

Maggie had never been happier, and seeing her happy warmed the hearts of her brothers. So when her vows were all said and done and they headed to the Garrison for the reception it did not come as a surprise when Arthur called for silence and Tommy presented the newly-weds with an envelope. 

“We thought we’d all chip in.” He said with a twinkle in his eye, “For the honeymoon, you know.”

“Tommy?” Maggie asked with a confused frown and a smile. “What are you doing?” 

“Just open it.” He grinned. “By order of the Peaky Blinders.” 

Maggie frowned at him and glanced to Teddy, who shrugged and together they slit the envelope open. Maggie frowned as they read it and then Maggie’s face lit up. 

“No, Tommy.” She shook her head, “This is too much.”

“Nonsense.” Tommy shrugged. “It’s not everyday your little sister gets married to a man as decent as Doctor Jennings here.” 

“What is it?” Teddy asked with a small frown as he took the envelope from his wife. 

“Only the blood  _ Titanic. _ ” Maggie was still staring in awe at her brothers in turn. 

“Adventure of a lifetime.” Arthur said. “Getting two first class tickets wasn’t easy, mind. Had to pull in some favours.”

“We thought America might be a good place to start your travelling.” John said from behind the bar.

“This is too much.” Maggie shook her head. 

“It launches when?” Teddy asked in awe, “April tenth? That’s soon!” His face lit up. “Thank you all.” He said, “So much.”

“No problem.” Tommy clapped him on the arm. “Is that enough notice?”

“More than enough.” Teddy beamed and kissed Maggie’s cheek excitedly. “America, love!” 

“America.” Maggie nodded in awe. 

What an adventure of a lifetime they would have, indeed. 


	7. Escape of the Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie and Teddy are prevented from taking the ship by an unfortunate event that may really have been a blessing. 
> 
> **Trigger Warning: Contains miscarriage.

**_1912, Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

Only their adventure of a lifetime wasn’t meant to be. Not in that way, anyway. 

Maggie knew something was wrong when she woke up on the morning they were supposed to leave for Portsmouth. It was overcast, unusual for this time in April, and Maggie knew before she even got out of bed. 

The first Teddy knew was the scream through the upstairs window as he prepared the car to set out for Portsmouth. It was bloodcurdling and devastated and he took the stairs two at a time as he launched himself inside. 

“What is it?!” He shouted, “What?” 

When he found Maggie she was on the floor of the bathroom surrounded by blood seeping through the tiles.

“What happened?” Teddy asked as he stooped to her level and gripped her arms. She threw herself against him, sobbing. 

“I lost it. I didn’t know, but I lost it.” She broke down in his arms. 

Teddy scanned the situation and held her close, stroking her hair. “It’s alright, love, it’s alright.”

He held onto her, unsure what else to do. All his years training to be a physician and he was never going to be prepared for this.

~*~

“Fellas,” Tommy said heavily, “It’s a sad day for the Shelby family.” 

“And the Jennings.” John added over his whisky glass.

“How is she?” Arthur asked. “Has anyone seen her?”

“Ada and I took round some food and things yesterday. She wouldn’t see us.” Tommy stubbed out his cigarette sourly into the tray. 

“Poor soul.” Arthur shook his head. “Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

There was a laboured silence. 

“What’s happening with the trip?” John said darkly. 

“Well they’re not fucking going, are they?” Arthur clouted him around the head for his stupidity. 

“Fuck off,” John snarled, “I mean... ah, never mind.” 

There was another silence.

“What can we do for them?”

“No much we can do.” Tommy shrugged. “Be there if she wants us, make sure they know we’re here.”

“How’s Teddy taking it?” John asked.

“Hard.” Arthur sighed. “He probably blames himself.”

“Nobody could have done anything.” John frowned. 

“No, and a pragmatic man would know that. But grief does weird things to us John-Boy.” Arthur shook his head.

They fell into silence as they contemplated the situation. For a long time they simply sat there. 

Then, with a bang of the door, D’Anthony burst in with a newspaper in his hand. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” He said, “But I thought you should see this.”

“It’s alright, Tony.” Arthur got to his feet and took the paper from him. “Shit.” He lay the paper down so the other two could read it and they all stood in silence for a moment. 

“Fuck.” Tommy breathed eventually.

There, in enormous black and white letters on the front of the paper, were two words: TITANIC SINKS. 

They looked at each other in turn and then, in unison, simply breathed:  _ “Choviar”.  _

Something in Maggie's gypsy blood must have known. Her baby must have given her life to save Maggie, and they were not sure Maggie would ever truly recover.


	8. In the Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality brings Maggie back to the land of the living.

**_1912, Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

“Maggie?” Pol put her head around the door with a soft knock. “Teddy said you were up here still.” Pol acknowledged the bundle under the covers and crossed to the window to throw open the drapes. “Don’t you think it’ll do you some good to get out, love?”

“Have you heard, Pol?” Maggie said from beneath the covers. “About the ship?”

“Of course I have, Maggie.” Pol sat on the edge of the bed softly, the daylight streaming down on them. “It’s all everybody is talking about.”

“It knew.” Maggie’s mournful voice answered. 

“What did?” Pol asked as she softly touched the lump under the covers. 

“The…” Maggie swallowed dryly. “It gave its life for ours.” 

There was a long silence as Pol frowned at her.

“That’s one way to look at it.” Pol said eventually. 

“It’s the only way to look at it.” Maggie replied, “Why else would it have left us like that?”

Pol sighed. There was another long silence. 

“Sometimes, Maggie.” She inched closer and spoke quieter, “Sometimes there is no explanation for these things. Sometimes they just happen.”

Maggie pushed back the covers and met her eye. She was pale and looked like she had hardly slept. “I know that’s why. I feel it. In the bones.” 

Pol sighed and gently touched her face. “Alright love.” She smiled. “That’s the gypsy blood in you.” She stroked her hair. “What you have to do with this gift you were given is live it. Don’t let the sacrifice be for nothing.”

Maggie looked back at Pol and then, making a decision, sat up straight. “You’re right, Pol.” 

“That’s my girl.” Pol replied. “Teddy needs you. Your brothers need you. Ivory has been asking for you, too.”

Maggie sighed and nodded. 

“How is Teddy?” She suddenly felt guilty. She had hardly seen her husband since the day it had happened. He had checked her over, they had changed their plans and then that was that. She had taken to the bed and had not left it. 

“He needs you.” Pol replied. She looked at her niece in sympathy, and then got to her feet and began to lay out her dress. “I suggest you bathe, love.” Pol gave her a look. “No man wants a woman who hasn’t bathed in days. Even given the circumstances.”

Maggie smiled at her aunt in spite of herself and the situation. She knew she was right. She knew she had to make the most of the life given to her after such a tragedy, and she knew she had to do it with her husband and family by her side. She got to her feet and allowed Pol to run her a bath and prepare her for her return to society. 


	9. Like a Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world crashes down around Maggie.

**_1914, Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

“Tommy, Tommy!” 

Ivory, of slight build and frame at her eleven years old, could easily slip her way through the crowd gathered in the Garrison with the telegram in her hand. 

They were gathered for the soul purpose of celebrating the latest Peaky Blinders victory, but it would be a gathering that soon changed everything. 

“To the Blinders!” Arthur cried, raising his glass. “Without the Blinders…”

“Tommy!” Ivory pushed through successfully and reached the bar where Tommy, Arthur, John and Maggie were standing, Pol, D’Anthony and Teddy off to one side. Finn was close behind Ivory, both of them having been running around outside. 

“What is it, Ivy?” Tommy asked as Arthur scowled at her for interrupting. 

“Sorry, sir.” Ivy said. More and more she had started going by Ivy in an attempt to drop the oppression she had been facing at the hands of the grandfather who had chosen her name. 

“Ivy,” D’Anthony said in an attempt to pull her to one side, “What are you doing?”

“Tommy needs this, papa.” Ivy held the telegram out to Tommy. 

“It’s true.” Finn added breathlessly from behind her. 

Tommy frowned and set down his drink on the bar to take it from her. He frowned further as he read the stamped envelope: ARTHUR, THOMAS & JOHN SHELBY.

“It’s addressed to all of us.” Tommy explained as he handed it to Arthur. It was not a secret that Arthur intimidated Ivy and where possible she always addressed Tommy. 

Arthur scowled, pissed at being interrupted, and took the envelope with a grumble. Ivy stood beside her father, catching her breath. 

Arthur slid open the envelope and pulled out the telegram inside. The government shield was stamped firmly in the top corner and Arthur’s eyebrows knitted together as he scanned the document. 

“Fuck.” Was all he said as he handed it to Tommy. Tommy scanned it and John peered over his shoulder. 

“What is it, Arthur?” Pol asked shakily. 

The whole room was silent as they watched carefully. 

“It’s from His Majesty’s War Office.” Tommy said with a dry mouth. “It just says four words.” He cleared his throat as the room waited with baited breath. “ _Germany has chosen war.”_

There was heavy silence surrounding them. 

“What does that mean, Tommy?” D’Anthony asked uncertainly as he wrapped his arms around his daughter. One side of his body was limp from the beatings he sustained in prison and from his time as a sailor. 

“It means,” Tommy said with a heavy sigh, “We are at war with Germany.” He swallowed hard. “Times are about to get very hard,” He said, folding up the telegram, “Very hard indeed.” 

“You’re not going to volunteer, Thomas.” Pol said as she pulled Finn closer to her. 

“Of course I am, Pol.” He said. 

“Aye, me too.” Arthur took off his hat solemnly. There were echoes of agreement from all the men in the room. 

“And me.” John added. 

Maggie put her arms around Teddy in silence, knowing he was about to say the same. He looked down at her, his grey eyes meeting her brown. For two years they had been married. For two years they had overcome the sorrow of the start of their marriage and learned to be together. Now there was this. Maggie knew what Teddy would do, she knew he would volunteer with her brothers. She held him close, knowing. He wrapped his arms around her. 

“It’ll be alright.” He said, kissing the top of her head. 

“Will it?” Maggie asked in a whisper. “Will it ever be alright again?”

Maggie felt like she had been shot. She had a bad feeling, a feeling like she had had two years ago. 


	10. Blighty Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the Great War Maggie and Ivy are forced to do their part for the cause... whatever that may be.

**_1916_ ** **,** **_Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

Time moved quickly with the men away at war. Being without them became the new norm, and the women left behind managed to somehow keep going without them. Pol and Ada took over the bookmaking business in the absence of the men. 

Maggie, as the wife of the best Doctor this side of the Cut, set about training women as nurses. 

Teddy had volunteered to work as a medic on the frontlines. He was one of the best doctors in the Black Country and they needed him. His replacement at the hospital was far below par. He was an old man who had seen his share of war and his opinions were often not welcome. He had much to say, for instance, about the colour of Ivy’s skin. As she was getting older her skin was getting darker, and that was causing problems with the old-fashioned minds. Ivy had learned to deal with their comments by now, and Maggie was always on hand to shoot them down. 

“She’s under the protection of the Peaky Blinders, fuck off.” Was usually the method of solution. 

Ivory was amongst those helping out at the hospital. She was fourteen now and beginning to come into her own as a woman. Maggie saw a lot of herself in Ivy and looked down to her like a little sister. They were companionable, working long hours at the Birmingham convalescent home. It felt good to be needed and to be doing their part for the war effort. 

Which was why, as the winter nights began to draw in, Ivy was spending less and less time at home. If she had, she would have noticed her father becoming ill before it was too late to help him. 

It was only as she returned home one evening to find him collapsed in the front room did she finally realise he needed help.

“I’m alright.” He tried to argue as she helped him into his chair. 

“Papa,” Ivy took in his pale appearance and clammy feel, the bloodshot eyes and the swelling in his hands and feet, “How long have you been like this?”

“It’s nothing, Ivy.” He said. 

“Nonsense.” Ivy shook her head and pulled her shawl back about herself. It was late but she would not let that stop her from getting her father help. “I’ll be right back, papa.” She kissed his forehead worriedly and hurried to the next street where Maggie lived. 

Maggie rushed around and then set off to fetch the old Doctor. The racist git only came because Maggie told him that he had no choice. He told them, after an examination at stick-point, it was likely to be winter fever and prescribed D’Anthony bed-rest. He suggested Ivy step down from working at the hospital in order to care for him. Ivy missed the racist undertones as she was too concerned with the welfare of her father. 

“Anything you need,” Maggie promised as she left them to it. 

Ivy barely left her father’s side for the following weeks. It was only as money began to dry up and Ivy could not get hold of Maggie that she began to resort to other means of getting money for her father to recover. Food was scarce as it was, and he needed extra to fight the disease fast racking his body. There was only one way Ivy knew to get what she needed. She had seen them down by the docks, and that was where she would go too.


	11. The Only Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivory is having to work to keep her father well, but she finds herself in trouble with nowhere to turn. 
> 
> **Trigger warning: Contains reference to coat-hanger abortion.

**_1917, Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

Somehow, through the grace of God, D’Anthony survived the winter, and though he was still ill, the food and medicine Ivory managed to afford through her ‘work’ was enough to keep him going. He didn’t know about it, of course. As far as he was concerned she was still getting an allowance from the Shelby’s, but after Ivy had seen Maggie on the night they had fetched the doctor she had rarely seen them since. It seemed like the Shelby’s had cut ties with the Powell’s without announcing it. 

Ivy was too concerned with the welfare of her father to give it much thought. She had her routine, her regular clients. Some of them were soldiers on leave from the war, or else those recovering at the convalescent home. Some were much older than she, which wasn’t hard. She only passed because she developed early and looked older than she was. Not that the men she served particularly cared. She was good at it, they paid her well, she could care for her father. That was all she cared about. 

That was until she started noticing a change in her body. An unwelcome change that she only knew from women’s magazines. She had a feeling her life was about to change and she couldn’t have it. She had to keep working for her father, and she couldn’t do that if she was up the duff. 

Yet she didn’t have anyone to turn to for confirmation or for guidance. She didn’t have the time or the money to deal with it professionally. She considered asking Polly or Maggie for help, but as she walked past their houses on the next street over there was no sign of activity within. It was getting dark and she knew they should be home.

Ivy knew she had to do something. She couldn’t continue this way. It wasn’t conducive to caring for her father, and he would be so disappointed if he knew the truth. That would probably finish him off, whatever it was he was suffering from. 

As Ivy was walking back to her own house and her father, contemplating her fate and trying to work out from the swelling of her breasts how far along she was, she saw the solution sticking out of a box by the curb, the metal glinting in the rising moonlight. 

Ivy approached it and hesitated before pulling it out. She knew what she had to do. She tucked it under her coat and hurried back to her own house. D’Anthony was dozing under a blanket on the sofa as she crept in and up the stairs to the dingy washroom. She didn’t have time to think about it, if she did she would never go through with it. 

She shut herself in the bathroom and pulled the coat-hanger out of her coat. She had heard of women doing it, and she knew she had no choice. 

Tears streamed down her face as she sat on the floor and spread her legs. 

It was the only solution. 


	12. The Family Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivy recovers from her attempt to abort and finds herself in the asylum, with the Shelby family now back in charge of her affairs.

**_1917, Outskirts of Birmingham_ **

The next thing Ivory knew about anything was waking up with her eyes fixed on a white ceiling above her head. She was in a small room and judging by the woman’s screams from outside the room she was not alone. Ivory sat up shakily and tried to make sense in her head. 

“It’s alright.” Maggie said from the side of the bed. Ivy frowned at her as she swam in and out of focus. 

“Maggie?” Ivy said weakly, sitting back against the pillows. “Where am I?” 

“You’re in Hollymoor, Ivy.” Maggie explained. She looked like she had hardly slept as she found Ivy’s hand and squeezed it. “In a specialist wing.”

“A specialist wing for what?” 

“It’s the best place for you, Ivy.” Maggie said softly, placing a hand on Ivy’s stomach beneath the covers. Ivy recoiled and stared at her. “Why didn’t you come to me? We could have dealt with it all together.” Maggie shook her head. 

There was a long silence.

“I tried.” Ivy said mournfully, her head low. “You were never around.”

“I know.” Maggie clenched her jaw. “I’m so sorry.”

“You had your own issues.” Ivy brushed her hand away. “You didn’t need mine.”

“Of course I did. You’re family, Ivy.” 

“No I’m not.” Ivy shook her head. “The only family I have is…” Her eyes widened. “My father?”

“He’s in our care. Pol moved him into our house. We should have done that before.” Maggie had tears stinging her eyes. “I am sorry, Ivy.”

“So you said.” Ivy swallowed hard. There was a long silence as she stared down at her stomach beneath the covers. “So it didn’t work?”

“No.” Maggie shook her head. “You’re quite far along, they reckon. Something about your build meant it went undetected.”

“So I have to birth the bastard.” Tears streamed down Ivy’s cheeks. 

“I’m afraid so. But we’ll deal with it when it’s here. Thats the family way.” Maggie said gently.

“I don’t want it.” Ivy replied. “When it comes they can take it far away from me.” Ivy lay down and closed her eyes in exasperation. 

“If you’re sure.” Maggie said. 

“Will you leave, please?” Ivy rolled over and turned her back on Maggie. She knew that now she was in Hollymoor there was no leaving. Maggie had put her here. She didn’t know how, or why, or where she had been, she only knew this was the last thing she wanted. 

Maggie opened her mouth to speak but the cold shoulder Ivy was giving her was enough to make her simply up and leave. 

~*~

Six months later and Ivy was discharged from Hollymoor. She had kept her word and given up her son, Patrick, and after she had cut ties with the Shelby’s for not keeping their word and allowing her father to die without Ivy being able to say goodbye, Ivy saw no reason to continue a relationship with the family. She moved closer to the docks and found accomodation outside of their jurisdiction. She was only fifteen, but she didn’t give a shit anymore. Without her father she had nothing left to live for, so why even try. 


	13. Supreme Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie recieves news from the front, and it is the last thing she wants to hear.

**_November 1918, Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

Margaret didn’t have time to be summoned by the matriarch, but here she was.

“What’s this about, Poll?” Maggie asked as she entered the small townhouse with her arms full of material to turn into bunting for the inevitable end of the war party that was going to happen soon. They could all feel it in their bones, that old gypsy sixth sense. “I don’t really have time for family meetings… there’s not much of a family left, anyway.”

“Have a seat, Mags.” Polly stubbed out her cigarette and gestured at the vacant chair. There was something about Polly’s demeanour that caused Maggie to pause and sink into the offered chair. “Fetch a pot, Ada.” Pol ordered. 

Ada got to her feet and crossed to the stove as instructed, in silence.

“Pol?” Maggie frowned and spoke cautiously, “What is it?”

“There was a telegram, Maggie.” Pol said as she held out the yellow card. 

Maggie stared at it as though it was a wild snake. She didn’t want to take it. The last thing she wanted to do was take it. 

“The boys…?” She asked with a dry mouth. 

“Just… take it.” Pol said. 

There was the shadow of tears in her eyes as Maggie searched them for the slightest bit of guidance. With a shaking hand and a pit in her stomach, Maggie took the card. 

The last thing she wanted to do was look at it as Ada returned with strong tea. Maggie knew what that meant. She had served hot tea to plenty of people who had had run-ins with the Blinders in the past. She knew it meant condolences.

Her eyes dropped to the telegram. 

Her heart stopped beating. 

**_MRS MARGARET JENNINGS._ **

**_WE DEEPLY REGRET TO INFORM YOU SGT. EDWARD JENNINGS HAS BEEN REPORTED AS KILLED IN ACTION._ **

The silence was deafening. 

“No.” Maggie breathed eventually, shaking her head and sinking into the chair Ada pulled out for her. “No.” She lifted her trembling hand to her mouth, not wanting to believe it. “No.” 

“So sorry, Maggie.” Pol reached out to gently touch her arm. “I know how it…”

“It’s a mistake.” Maggie shook her head again, tears falling from her eyes and smudging the coal around them, “No.” 

“There is no mistake, Mags.” Ada said gently. 

“What do you know of it Ada?!” Maggie shouted, getting to her feet angrily. “Nothing!” 

“Maggie…” Pol matched her movement with a far softer expression. “We know it’s going to be hard for you, we know…” 

“Fuck off.” Maggie spat in their direction, “You don’t know a single fucking thing.” She hurried from the house, the bolts of cloth left behind and the telegram still clutched in her hand. She hurried out into the street. She was blinded by her own tears as she collapsed against the wall. 

“She’ll come round.” Pol said softly to Ada. “Grief takes us all differently.” 

Outside in the coal and the soot of Watery Lane Maggie sank down the wall, her grey coat smearing with grime. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything anymore. She felt numb. A month before the end of the war, if that, and Teddy had been taken from her. They were so close to having everything, to being happy, to being able to start a family… to do it all right this time. And it was all gone. 

He was gone. 

Maggie had rarely known love in her life. She loved her brothers, sure, and she wanted them to come back safely from Godforsaken France. She wanted Teddy to come back too. Tommy had promised to keep him safe… to make sure they all came back together. 

Maggie let out a grief-stricken howl of agony and pain and sank to her knees on the ground, her fingers filtering through the coal on the stones as she wanted nothing more than to be in the mud beside her fallen husband. How could she go on without him?

Like a Peaky Blinder, that’s how. 

Whatever the fuck that meant. 


	14. Down Hearted Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back in Birmingham and have to wrangle the girls who have scattered through various reasons. They need the whole family together if they're going to function. 
> 
> **Trigger warning: Contains one racist remark.

**_November 1918, Small Heath, Birmingham_ **

The war was over. 

The boys were coming home. 

Well, the ones who had survived, that was. 

There was a party to be held at the Garrison in honour of their safe return. Tommy, Arthur and John had all arrived in one piece, along with the other men who had been called to the front, and celebrations were in order. 

There were two people absent, however.

“Pol,” Arthur said over his whisky. “Where’s Mags?”

“Maggie?” Pol said. “She’s hardly left her bed in the last two weeks since we got the news.” 

“Alright.” Arthur set down his drink, “John-boy!” 

John looked up from where he was embracing his wife. 

“We got a job to do.” Arthur called, “Ain’t no party without Maggie.” And he and John left the Garrison. 

“Where are they off to?” Tommy asked as he joined Pol in the booth. 

“To find Maggie.” Pol explained. 

“I did wonder.” Tommy sighed. “How’s she coping?”

“Not well.” Pol admitted. “She loved him.”

“Aye.” Tommy nodded. “That she did. And he her.”

“Were you…” Pol cleared her throat, “Were you there at the end?”

“No.” Tommy shook his head. “We were separated. Honestly, Pol, I don’t know how I can face her.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Tommy.” Pol said. “None of what happened over there was your fault.”

“He was my brother-in-law.” Tommy sighed. “I should have protected him.”

“You did your best.” Pol said with a gentle touch to his arm. 

Tommy sighed. His best wasn’t good enough, clearly. He sipped his drink and looked around. “Where’s Ivory? And D’Anthony?”

“Nobody has seen nor heard from her in near two years.” Pol said. “Not since…”

Tommy frowned at her. 

“Of course… you don’t know.” Pol sighed. “Much has happened, Tommy. Some of which was hard to put in letters.”

“What happened?” Tommy frowned at her, “The basics.” 

“D’Anthony passed away a year and a half ago. Pneumonia.” Pol said heavily.

“Christ.” Tommy shook his head. “Poor Ivory. Where is she?”

“Lord knows.” Polly shrugged. “She blamed us for her dad’s death.”

“Why?” Tommy raised an eyebrow.

Polly blinked at him. “Tell you what. You track her down, she can tell you herself. It’s not my business.”

“For you to say something like that, Pol,” Tommy took a drag of his cigarette, “It’s got to be rough. Right.” He finished his drink and pulled on his cap. “I guess I’ll have to track her down, then. Can’t have little Ivory blowing in the wind unchaperoned.” 

“Indeed.” Pol raised an eyebrow as Tommy set out for the door, “But she’s not little Ivory any longer.” She finished to herself as she turned her back on it. 

In her residence, Maggie was contentedly spending her days in bed. She had managed to keep herself alive although every day was difficult. She couldn’t help but think that if she had had a child with Teddy, if it had survived, then the grief would have been bearable. Now she had never felt more alone. 

“Maggie?” There was a knock on the door and Arthur’s bark blaring out, “Open the door.”

“Go away.” Maggie called. She had not seen her brothers since they had returned. She didn’t want to, it would bring losing Teddy back all the more. 

“Is that anyway to treat your brothers?” John added, “After we travelled so far to see you.”

“Fuck off.” Maggie added. 

“Right.” There was a grunt and then the door flew open as Arthur kicked it in. 

“Fucking hell!” Maggie sat up with a start as Arthur and John appeared. She was dressed, she was just under the covers. Arthur and John entered the small smokey room and stood in the centre, both of them still wearing their coats and caps. 

There was a beat as she looked at them, and then she felt all the emotion wash over her as she hurried to them and hugged them both tightly. She sobbed into John’s shoulder as Arthur stroked her hair. 

“We’re home now, Mags.” Arthur said. 

“You’re not alone anymore.” John added. 

“Don’t ever leave again.” Maggie ordered. 

“Received and understood.” Arthur said with a chuckle. 

Maggie stood back and looked between them both. 

“Did he suffer?” She asked. 

“No, Mags.” John said with a look to Arthur. “We were there. It was quick.” 

Maggie nodded. “Well,” She cleared her throat, “that’s something.” 

“Aye.” Arthur nodded. 

“Come on. There’s a party going on without you, and that’s just unheard of.” John said. Maggie giggled and let them lead her out of her room and back into the land of the living. She had spent too long with ghosts. 

Across town, on the outskirts of Small Heath, Tommy had spent the best part of the night tracking down Ivory to a residence in the slums. It was not an area he knew well personally, though he knew its reputation. He could see now why Pol had not wanted to tell him what Ivory had been doing. 

“Can I help you, soldier?” A woman asked from a dingy doorway as he passed. 

“No, thank you.” Tommy said, then paused. “Not in that way.” He scowled. “I’m looking for Ivory Powell.” 

“The nigger?” The woman asked with disdain. “End of the street. You like ‘em young?”

“Thank you.” Tommy said dismissively. In his head as he walked he tried to work out how old Ivory would be now. Sixteen? Seventeen? He couldn’t see how Pol and Maggie had let her do this to herself, how it had got to this point. Tommy reached the house at the end and it was clear what the building was. He braced himself and entered the den of sin. The air was heady with drugs and incense and the sounds of pleasure reverberated off the walls. 

“Hey there handsome,” Came a voice. 

“Do you want to know a good time?” Another. 

“I’m looking for Ivory.” Tommy said, ignoring the breasts on show around him. 

“Top floor.” A third woman instructed him. Tommy nodded in thanks and set off up the stairs, ignoring the smells and sounds around him as he kept his head down and climbed. 

The top floor was a single room behind an open door. He could see her through it, sitting at the dressing table in a red housecoat, and applying cream or something to a bruise on her neck. Tommy removed his hat humbly and knocked on the door. 

“Enter.” She replied. Her voice was much more mature. Everything about her was much more mature. She had been twelve, thirteen the last time Tommy had seen her, just a child. She had developed in the time since in more ways than one. He took a deep breath and pushed open the ajar door. “I’ll be right with...” She looked up in the mirror and her voice tailed off. “Tommy?!”

She turned to him fully and stared at him in disbelief. 

“Hi Ivory.” He said with a small smile. There was no denying that she had grown into a stunning young woman. 

Ivy covered herself and got to her feet, staring at him. There was a pause, and then she approached him cautiously and hugged him tentatively. She had never hugged him in her life, but in that moment he was a connection to the person she had once been. He hugged her back for a moment, his hands on her waist, and let himself breathe in her perfume. 

“You survived.” She said, stepping back to look at him. 

“I did.” Tommy grinned, then frowned and looked around before gently touching the bruise on her jaw. “What happened to you, Ivory?”

“Ivy.” Ivy corrected. “I go by Ivy now. There is nothing  _ ivory  _ about me?” She gestured at her skin that had significantly darkened in the time Tommy had been away. 

“Ivy.” Tommy nodded. “What happened to you?”

“Grief.” She said with a small shrug. “Loss. Hardship.”

“So you turned to this?” Tommy gestured at the room. 

Ivy sighed and sat back down on her stool. “I got screwed by the Peaky fucking Blinders so I figured why not let other people screw me too.”

“What happened?” Tommy asked a third time. 

“They forsook my father when he needed them most. Pol, Maggie and all them. They turned their backs. We couldn’t afford his treatment, I had to make money somehow. Then when I got pregnant they put me in an asylum and I wasn’t there when he died.”

“You got pregnant?” Tommy frowned, looking around.

“He’s gone.” Ivy explained, knowing he was looking for the kid. “A long time ago. Care of the state, adopted, dead, who fucking knows.” Ivy swallowed. “I got screwed big time.” 

There was a long silence as Tommy took it all in. She was just a kid, but she had not been a kid for a long time. 

“What do you want, Tommy?” Ivy said. 

“I want to help you.” Tommy asked. "You're family. I care about you, always have."

“So you come back into town and suddenly everything is okay? The war is over so everything goes back to normal, is that it?” Ivy crossed her legs agitatedly. “I’m supposed to trust my life to the Blinders again?”

“I want to take care of you, Ivy.” Tommy said, then cleared his throat. “We… we want to take care of you. You don’t have to do this anymore, Ivy. You can do something you want to do.” 

“How very fucking generous.” Ivy turned her back on him and added powder to the bruise. There was a pause as she looked at him reflected. He met her eye in the mirror. “I do miss nursing.” She set down the brush. “At the start of the war… I was nursing in the convalescent home. I was quite good at it. I liked helping people, and it didn’t matter that I was black.” 

“Then come back to us.” Tommy took a step forward. “Come back, and we can help you get set up as a nurse.” His eyes were big and honest.

“Do you really mean it, Tommy?” Ivy got to her feet and turned to him. “You can save me from this life?”

“I can make it so you never have to do this again.” He looked back at her. “Not unless you want to.” 

There was a split second and then Ivy nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

Tommy smiled at her and gently touched the bruise on her cheek.

“Not unless I want to...” She said softly, inclining her head to invite him in. He kissed her before he could stop himself. In the years he had been gone, Ivy really had turned into a beautiful young woman. 


End file.
